Suddenly Morning
by Astralis
Summary: He wanted to tell her that he wanted the details, he wanted to hear about the cases and the evidence and the funny things Greg said in the break room. He wanted to tell her how lonely he got sometimes, stuck inside with a baby, while she was working. NS.


**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing you recognise.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is for Anushka, who wanted Nick/Sara.

* * *

Nick stared at the pile of bills, then at the figure on the calculator screen. Too exhausted to think straight, he propped his head up with his hands and looked at the baby on the floor. 

His son.

Looking at Daniel, who was lying on his back waving a rattle in the air, didn't change the fact that Nick seemed to spend most of his time juggling every cent they had to keep two adults and a baby on one salary, or that if he wasn't doing that he was doing housework, or that the sheer amount of overtime Sara was doing had to be bad for them all, but he let her do it because they needed the money. Looking at Daniel did, however, convince him that this all had to be worth it.

As he was about to go over and pick Daniel up he heard the sound of a key in the lock, at least two hours before Sara should have been home. "That you?"

"Who else?" she called back. Nick heard the sounds of her kicking off her shoes and dumping her coat, and then she came into the living room and went straight for Daniel. He was used to it by now, that her first priority was Daniel and not him - after all, she was his mother - but part of him missed the days when, if she was tired or upset, it was him she wanted first.

"What are you doing home?" he asked, watching her stand up with Daniel held tightly in her arms.

"Grissom sent me." Sara tried to hide a yawn behind Daniel's head. "He's also banned me from coming in next shift."

Nick's eyes dropped to the bills. "Why?"

"Because he thought I was going to screw something up. And then he muttered something about spending time with you and Danny." Sara glanced over at him, and their eyes met. Nick must have let his worry show, because Sara suddenly tensed. "What did you want me to do? Tell him we need the money because we had to spend so much on baby stuff?"

"I didn't say that." Nick rubbed his forehead.

"No, but you were thinking it," Sara shot back, burying her head against the baby's.

"I wasn't."

When Sara spoke again her voice was thick, and he knew not to push her. "Has Daniel had his bath?"

"No."

"Fine. Then I'll give him his bath."

Before Nick could answer she was gone, and he heard her opening and shutting drawers in Daniel's room and running water in the bath, all the time talking to Daniel in the light, soft tone she never used for anyone else.

Sitting at the table, Nick listened to Sara singing to Daniel as she bathed him. He looked at the bills, and then at the pile of clean laundry on the sofa that needed to be sorted, ironed, folded, and put away. When Greg had teasingly referred to Nick as the classic housewife, he hadn't been far wrong. For something to do, Nick went over to the pile and started picking through it, pulling out the things that didn't need ironing, folding them, and putting them into three heaps: one of his clothes, one of Sara's, and one of Daniel's. What a nice little family they were.

Nick had started the ironing - Sara's work clothes, mostly - when Sara and Daniel reappeared from the bathroom. "How was work?" Nick asked, faking a conversational mood as Sara sat down to play with their son.

"Fine."

Nick paused his ironing and looked at her, and then decided he wasn't likely to get more of an answer. He wanted to tell her that he wanted the details, he wanted to hear about the cases and the evidence and the funny things Greg said in the break room. He wanted to tell her how lonely he got sometimes, stuck inside with a baby, while she was working. But he didn't, because that would be deliberately provoking Sara and they'd had enough fights recently. The last thing they needed was to go over, again, the topic of why he stayed home with the baby and she went to work. It was a touchy subject for both of them.

Sara played trains with Daniel - or rather, Sara played trains and Daniel watched and laughed and sometimes got distracted playing with something else - and Nick methodically finished the ironing. Sara kept breaking into song, but they were melancholy, sad, wistful songs. Nick ironed, and watched, and listened, and wondered why this wasn't quite turning out as he'd expected when he'd found out Sara was pregnant.

* * *

Nick lay on his side in bed, trying to force himself to sleep. He was acutely aware of the need for sleep, and especially of the need to sleep while Daniel was asleep, but what he wanted to do was curl up in a little ball and cry. He didn't regret having Daniel - he loved his little boy - but right then he felt he'd give almost anything for things to go back to normal between him and Sara. He'd had this fond idea that when the baby was born they'd all live happily ever after, despite the warnings of his favourite sister. All the books he'd been reading when Daniel was sleeping and Sara was at work seemed to suggest they'd get through this, but sometimes it seemed an impossibility, because Nick couldn't even put a name to what was going on. There was over-tiredness, and money worries, and trying to juggle suddenly - or four months ago - having a baby - but that didn't quite seem to explain just how much everything had changed. 

He knew that Sara wasn't asleep. She was curled up with her back to him, but he could tell just by the sound of her breathing. He knew her well, after all.

After they'd eaten and fed Daniel, she'd put the baby to bed and then announced she was having a shower. Desperate for some kind of closeness, Nick had asked if she wanted company. She'd said no, but she'd come to bed with eyes that, even in the dark, looked suspiciously red.

By the time Daniel woke up, Nick wasn't sure if he'd even been to sleep, and he doubted Sara had, either. Before he'd had a chance to speak she was out of bed, off to feed Daniel. For a few minutes Nick just lay there. She was Daniel's mother, after all, and she didn't get to see enough of him. Not when she was constantly working overtime just so they could pay the bills. He knew that Grissom was right and that Sara really needed a night off, but he was also starting to think all the people who'd said Sara should be the one to stay home with their child were right. He was losing the sense of perspective that enabled him to see that it was best for all of them, because he was the one less likely to go stir-crazy shut up at home with a baby. Sara needed the stimulation work offered more than he did.

That they couldn't go on this way was obvious. He was losing Sara, losing his anchor. Daniel needed two parents who loved each other, not two parents who sometimes didn't know what to say to each other. Not quite knowing what he was going to do Nick got out of bed and went into Daniel's room. Sara was sitting in the chair by the crib with Daniel in her arms, giving the baby his bottle. "It's your daddy," she whispered to Daniel, just softly enough for Nick to hear her.

Nick sat on the arm of the chair where he'd sat for so many feeding sessions and gently touched Daniel's head, stroking his soft brown hair. Then, carefully, almost holding his breath, and not saying a word, Nick raised his hand to Sara's head and began to stroke her hair. He was more aware of her breathing than of his own as Daniel, oblivious, finished his bottle. Sara raised Daniel over one shoulder and burped him. Instead of standing, then, and putting their son back to bed, she leaned against Nick silently, resting her cheek on his thigh.

After a few minutes Nick realised she was crying.

* * *

When he looked back, it felt like that moment had been some sort of a breakthrough. Sara had actually manage to direct an emotion at him that wasn't anger or frustration or exhaustion. When she'd stopped crying they'd put Daniel back to bed, and stayed up themselves to have a conversation that was more needed than sleep, and didn't involve fighting with each other. It felt like they'd come to an understanding; not one he could put into words, but an understanding all the same. A truce, even. 

The fighting didn't stop completely, and neither did the tiredness, or the not having enough money. It just felt as though they were making a conscious effort - maybe for the first ever time - to stand beside each other, rather than pulling each other down. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough, and Nick was happy.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
